I switched chapters 13-14-15 around and rewrote them some so now it makes more sense why they didn't take the injured Kirk to the shuttle and then couldn't wait for the medkit before moving him anyway.

Chapter 21

Muffled, mussed... mmm?

"WHAT!"

McCoy shot up out of his dream, instantly forgetting it. A moment's discombobulation, then Jim Kirk's face, up close: healthy glow on his cheeks, bright eyes, an amused smile.

"Mornin'," the Captain said mildly.

"Mornin' my-" McCoy started, then held his tongue. He was stiff as a board and chilled throughout. Apparently his blanket had disappeared. So had Kirk's.

"When did you wake up?" he asked the smirking Captain.

"Oh, half an hour ago? Alana and Adok are finishing up packing the horses."

McCoy groaned a bit getting up on his knees. He caught Alana, a bit further up, packing her herb bag, trying to hide her smile at his grousing. Adok was strapping the bedrolls to one of the horses. What little had been in the cart, his blanket as well as his wall of twigs had been removed, without his noticing.

"I must've slept deeply," the Doctor mused.

"You must've needed it," said Kirk, handing him the tricorder.

McCoy couldn't argue with that. He strapped the tricorder over his shoulder.

Adok led the other horse to the entrance of the cart.

Kirk eyed the horse - well, "horse". These animals were earless and also lacked manes, though their tails were definitely horse-like. They were invariably black and a little broader than Earth horses. The manner of harnessing and saddling were similar enough. From what McCoy had observed, they were much less given to flightiness and moved in a fluid way. The Doctor admitted to himself he was optimistic about the coming ride.

"Are you ready for this?"

"I am," declared the Captain. "My legs will hold me, I think, till there anyway" - he nodded at the horse, just a few feet away - "and I won't have to mount."

McCoy helped him up and he did, indeed, stand, with the Doctor's support and a suppressed groan.

"Okay?"

"Well," Kirk got out, gingerly taking the first step, "it'd been a while. You'd think walking is like riding a bike," – he got into the saddle without trouble, held on to the pommel with his left hand, even smiled – "or riding a horse."

McCoy ignored the quip, stood for a moment at the edge of the cart, holding on to Kirk's shoulder.

"I'll be fine," Kirk reassured him. "I'll let you know if I'm about to fall off."

Yeah, right, McCoy thought to himself.

Adok led the horse away and without further ado started into the woods.

"Hey!" McCoy protested, but it was apparently the plan. The other horse followed the first automatically.

McCoy jumped off the cart and accepted a biscuit from Alana.

"Guess it's time to warm these old bones, then," he grumbled.

He took up the rear.

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McCoy walked beside Kirk's as much as the forest would allow him, checking on him often. He understood now why they deserted the cart. The forest was too dense to get through, some thickets too congested even for the horses. Alana had taken the lead. She seemed to have an eye for finding easier ways through. Luckily the lowest branches started quite a ways up the trunks, saving the Captain from having to duck too often.

But Kirk was born to sit in the saddle. His body just seemed to have that perfect center of gravity, the fluidity to move with whatever was moving underneath him. McCoy had seen him jump off and on a horse in gallop... saddled or barebacked, come to think of it. He'd also seen him ride slumped over a horse's neck, wounded. This ride was something in the middle of those. He sat a bit stiffly and unbalanced, low in the injured shoulder and turned in, protective of it. When they hit a patch with lots of ups and downs, his uninjured hand moved to his bad elbow, preferring to cradle it over holding on to the pommel.

McCoy wondered how long he would keep this up, but for now he seemed content enough, in a kind of concentrated trance, eyes on the top of the horse's head.

"Adok?" McCoy called, turning to the burly man leading the other horse, taking up the rear. "Can you walk with the Captain?"

Adok nodded and took McCoy's place. His horse needed no leader, it just followed its companion. McCoy caught up with Alana.

"Do you know where we're going?"

"I know the region, not the exact place. But my mentor said the Witch's place is not one place. It has has many entrances. And it finds those who look for it."

McCoy raised an eyebrow and Alana, who had seen it, blushed with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.

"My mentor was a very wise healer, Doctor McCoy, and I would not have you mock her. She found the Witch both times in her life when she needed to."

McCoy held out his hands in conciliation.

"I apologize, Alana. And did your mentor also say anything about the Witch?"

"No, it is forbidden to reveal the Witch."

"Or what she actually does?"

"Yes. Also that."

McCoy felt his humor melt like snow under the sun. The helplessness of their situation threatened to overwhelm him again.

Alana scrutinized his face and added,

"She is a healer, Doctor. She heals not just the Jura Spirit, but also one who suffers. She will not harm your Captain."

McCoy blushed a little, that she had guessed his bitter suspicions about her people, that all they cared about was to get rid of Kirk, one way or another.

"How long before we get there?"

Alana smiled indulgently at him.

"Have faith, Doctor," she whispered.

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It was hard to tell by the position of the sun, obstructed by the dense canopy of the forest, how long they had traveled, but by his tricorder it was five hours before Kirk lost consciousness for a moment and nearly fell sideways off his horse. McCoy and Adok were there to steady him.

"I knew you'd never admit it," McCoy groused up at the groggy, mortified Captain. "We should stop and rest."

"No," said Adok bluntly.

"What, why?"

"There are others here," Adok announced.

McCoy spun around. He hadn't noticed anything but small animals and leaves rustling.

Alana, who had backtracked, confirmed it.

"Adok is right. They are looking for us. Juras, not Klingons. We must keep moving. You ride with Jim Kirk. Adok and I will ride the other horse. We'll go as fast as he can handle."

Adok helped McCoy mount into the saddle behind the Captain. McCoy embraced Kirk, who was slumping and grabbed the reigns.

"An hour or two, at the most. He won't be up for longer," McCoy told Alana.

"That should be sufficient to outrun them."

Luckily the horse needed no direction, as Kirk was an armful. McCoy had dosed him with painkiller and stimulant, a nasty combination if ever there was one.

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I wonder if this story will turn out to be a L'arlesiana?

In that opera, The Woman from Arles, the title character never appears.